


The Defence of Progress

by gowerstreet



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Gen, M/M, casefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27690695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gowerstreet/pseuds/gowerstreet
Summary: An early morning visitor interrupts breakfast at Baker Street and begs for Holmes to return to Cambridge on a matter of grave importance.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17
Collections: Holmestice Exchange - Winter 2020





	The Defence of Progress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a_different_equation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_different_equation/gifts).



> Dear a_different_equation , you asked for casefic in a university town.  
> Your wish is my commmand

The Defence of Progress

“Watson?”The finest man in Holmes’ opinion bolted the front door and put down his bag. 

“Watson!” The voice was growing more insistent. Watson looked for signs of impending disaster and found none.The insistent tone could mean one thing. But what client arrived at a quarter past eight in the morning?

“On my way up…” He kept the usual ‘dear heart’ silent for fear of disclosure. He listened closely as he ascended the stairs, but found that he could only hear a fraction of the ongoing conversation.

The angle of the mantle mirror allowed Watson the first clues as to their mysterious visitor.A ladies’ cape and hat had found a temporary registry on the coat stand. A tall woman of slenderly muscled build, soberly but stylishly dressed in an outfit of charcoal grey, sat at the dining table, where coffee and toast was set for three. Holmes caught his gaze and his eyes lit up.

“At last !” exclaimed Holmes. “How is Sister Mary Joseph?”

“Much improved, thankfully. The Poor Clares send their regards.”

“Excellent. May I introduce Dr Iris McLelland, Warden of Radegund College, Cambridge. Dr McLelland, this is Dr John Watson, who shares your profession.”

The visitor rose to her feet and held out her ungloved hand. “Pleased to meet you, Dr Watson.

Watson shook her hand, noting the confidence of her grip. “Pleased to meet you, Dr McLelland. I have heard many good things about your institution.”

“That’s very kind of you, Doctor... I wish that the leaders of the University thought the same, but this is why I have travelled up to London at this early hour, to ask for urgent assistance, on a matter of the utmost delicacy.”

Holmes gestured for them to sit down, then poured the coffee. Watson offered the toast rack.

“This is very good of you,” Dr McLelland began. “There are many in England who consider the advanced education of women to be an utter abomination, which has made the establishment and continuation of the College a constant battle. We are inured to the petty slights of those in the University who are determined to see us fail, but we are now approaching our third decade, with student numbers growing year on year.

“We had hoped for our students to be granted an official status, but our hopes were defeated after a vote at the Senate House last year, which was followed by deeply unsettling behaviour of the members of the University, who strung up female figures and plastered our gates with the vilest of graffiti. The police did nothing more than have the items removed, blaming it on an attack of high spirits.”

“My former university has a great deal of which to be ashamed,” replied Holmes. “The ancient seats of learning in this country are not as they should be. But pray continue, Dr McLelland.”

She nodded. “Our students are permitted to attend lectures, providing the academic in charge is content with their presence and that they are chaperoned at all times. These chaperones are local women of impeccable character, mostly retired from the teaching profession. Currently we have five, who accompany our students to and from lectures, as per the strictures laid down the University, And whilst our students cannot officially sit the examinations required for their degree, they have been given the right to receive a certificate of attendance in lieu of the formal qualification that their male counterparts have always had the right to receive. Our students are held to a far higher standard of public behaviour, as indeed are our staff. Our chaperones in particular have been coming under attack, as they tend to live some distance away from the College. They are a hardy group, determined that this generation of students gain the type of advantages which were denied to them. But recently there have been several incidents where the behaviour of those who are against our very existence has become increasingly threatening, and I fear that genuine and lasting harm will soon happen with significant intervention.”

“What has been occurring?” asked Watson, opening his notebook.

“Chaperones have been followed by mysterious individuals. Miss Brayfield, who lives in Cherry Hinton, came home to find the remains of three blackbirds, their necks wrenched, laid in a line across her doormat. And then last night, Miss Cosgrove, was confronted by two individuals on bicycles who took advantage of the fog to block her path as she crossed Magdalene Bridge, and threatened to dunk her in the Cam, ‘to see if a witch could float.’ The approach of a constable on his beat stopped them in their tracks, and they were gone before anything could be made of it. Miss Cosgrove was more angered than frightened, but the continued safety and welfare of those in my care cannot be allowed to be threatened in this way.”

“I concur most heartily, Dr McLelland,” replied Holmes. “Please help yourself to more coffee and the paper whilst we pack.”

A visible sense of relief swept over Dr McLelland. She refilled her cup and scanned the headlines whilst the sound of bustle and reorganisation filtered from nearby rooms. If she noted that both men seemed to be packing their cases in the same room, she refused to acknowledge it.

\----

They reached Cambridge in the late morning. The streets were slick with recent puddles, and then there was a significant queue for hansoms.

“Are you up for a walk, gentlemen? The College is reachable on foot…”

Holmes cast a quick glance towards Watson, who threw it straight back at him. “My leg is quite fine, Sir Worry Wort.” He turned to Dr McLelland, who was trying to school her amusement.”War wound, which occasionally bothers me from time to time..”

“Especially when you have been up most of the night attending to the Poor Clares.”

Watson rolled his eyes affectionately. “Our companion, Dr McLelland, would be better served in ensuring that he is fully acquainted with his _own_ bed for more than two hours a night before he persters me about my habits…”

She smiled. “Such as it is between those with whom we live...There will be time, Doctor, for you to rest, such as might be required, after lunch, as our students are at lectures, attending supervisions or engaged in private study. We have rooms set aside for visiting fellows which i hope you will find to your liking…”

They had now reached the end of the road and turned their backs on the town itself, walking on at a companionable pace.

“One of our benefactresses kindly left her house and gardens in order to provide us with a physical establishment. That , along with donations from private individuals and support from more open-minded institutions, has enabled us to grow. We have even been able to offer three scholarships in the past year, thanks in no small part to our supporters. The College is not without allies, even if some of them do not feel able to openly declare themselves as such.”

She paused outside a large house set back from the road by a carriage drive and a bank of trees. “Please follow me..”

A pleasant lunch followed, one at which Dr McLelland introduced those members of the College who were currently present.

Watson did his best to show interest, contributing when appropriate, but it became apparent to Holmes in particular that the weight of a busy night without rest was wearing him thin, however much he protested otherwise.

"Thank you for your time," he said as they left the dining room. "It has been most refreshing and reassuring to bring the presence of such youthful drive and intelligence."

"Precisely," murmured Watson, now almost drunk with fatigue. He felt the gently insistent pressure of Holmes's hand on his elbow. "Please do not let us keep you from your studies…"

"Indeed not," replied Dr McLelland. "Until later, gentlemen."

Watson managed to maintain a vertical position until Holmes had closed the door of the Visiting Fellows rooms firmly behind them.

"Down you go, dear heart." Watson allowed himself to be toppled onto the nearest of the twin beds. Holmes gently relieved him of his shoes, and draped the quilt over him. He pressed a kiss to his brow then settled into the attached sitting room. His mind span with possible scenarios and their likely outcomes. He knew that it was only happenstance that prevented the harassment of the Radegund students and staff degenerating into lasting harm. Action would have to be taken soon, possibly within the day.

 _But how to proceed?_ It did appear that those reading the sciences were the ones coming under the most pressure; of all of the academic disciplines, the sciences seemed to be the most securely guarded by the arrogant and ill-informed. He had not had the opportunity to speak to those students due to the timing of their lectures, but Dr McLelland assured them that they would return for Evensong in the college chapel.

Watson began snuffling in his sleep. Holmes aches to slip into the next room and fit himself against his body, but held back, far too aware of the dangers of discovery, even in such an apparent haven as the College. Discretion was their greatest defence. There would be time enough for open affection when they returned to Baker Street.

A discreet knock on the door two hours later woke Holmes from his reverie. He hadn't the heart to disturb Watson – he needed all the sleep he could get.

"Come in." The door opened to reveal Dr McLelland. "May ask you whether you have had any thoughts to share with me?"

"Indeed I do." He picked up his coat. May we take a walk? I will prefer that we are able to talk undisturbed…cast an eye on the closed inner door. "What about… ?"

"I would prefer to leave him to wake of his own accord, Doctor. He prefers not to make a fuss, but I can see how he gets tired easily at the moment…"

"Arthritis ?"

"Of a sort I believe, especially during the colder damper spells."

“All the better to let him sleep his fill." She led him downstairs.

The college was buzzing with the returning students. Dr McLelland took on the air of a commanding officer counting her forces back as he returned from a sortie. "All well?" asked Holmes in an undertone.

She nodded, without taking up eyes off the arrivals. "I prefer to be a visible presence when they return, the better to beware of any unpleasantness that might have followed them on the way back."

"Where is the chaperone?"

"Just coming in now. Mrs Holtz. A recent recruit to our number. Her late husband was a vicar in Surrey, I believe, although –" Dr McLelland paused.

"Although?".

"Although she gives the distinct impression of having lived a very different life before her marriage."

"In what context?"

"She has had a far wider education than the average clergy wife – indeed, it would not surprise me to discover that she came from minor gentry or similar. Not to the bad, I must reassure you, for she is quite devoted in her role and is amongst friends here – but she carries a sense of mystery about her, perhaps to do with her widowing, which apparently occurred just over two years ago."

"Intriguing." Holmes watched the tall figure stow away her bicycle and walk swiftly towards the back of the College, acknowledging Dr McLelland with an incline of the head. When her eyes fixed on Holmes, her polite composure shifted slightly. Holmes had an almost perfect recall with regard to every person with whom he had had significant contact. Mrs Holtz’s was not a face which matched anyone in his memory, and yet there was the prickle of recognition which would not disappear. 

He realised with a start that Dr McLelland was watching with him with no minor concern.

"You see what I have seen, Mr Holmes? What am I to make of it? "

"At this point, nothing. There are many members of your sex who have had to take radical turns from their expected paths in order to endure and thrive amongst cruelties of our society. I believe that Mrs Holtz may well be one of them."

"Indeed. I was one of those. I rejected a match with a man twice my age when I had barely left the school gates, and it was only the actions of my dear aunt who left me the funds to make my own life that secured my future. I am worse than dead to my family, and have been so these past twenty years as a result." She stared at the gate which was now closed tight for the evening. "The College is my family now, and I must protect it."

"And you will succeed." He brought his hands together "A plan is forming in my mind. I believe by this time tomorrow this whole situation will have been resolved."

"Thank you May we assist in our own preservation?"

A smile danced acrossHolmes's face. "But of course. May I speak to the whole community of the chapel before the chaperones depart. I promise I will not keep long."

Most certainly. And will you require anything else?"

"A short but significant list of items, which I am sure can be resource from your domestic stores."

"All are at your disposal, Mr Holmes…"

The confident step of a rested soul made them both turn around. "Solved it already,Holmes? Anything you wish to share?"

"Later," replied Holmes. “All will become clear."

\---

Holmes outlined his plan to the members of the College. He was acutely aware of Mrs Holtz's gaze throughout, but chose to place it at the back of his mind.

The unity of purpose remained when, after dinner, the Fellows, students and chaperones gathered in different areas of the College in order to prepare for the coming day. As ever, Holmes did not clarify his reasons, only promising that all would be explained once those who had been menacing them were brought to justice.

\---

Holmes was a brooding spectre on the window seat of their room. "Come to bed," commanded Watson. "You've achieved as much can be done tonight."

"I am missing something, my dearest man. It is staring into me from the edges of my memory."

Watson pulled the blinds down, sending a silent apology to the moon and the stars. “Sleep will help untangle your brain.” He ran a hand across Holmes' shoulders and let it come to rest around the curve of his skull. "Let me soothe you…" 

Holmes leaned into the touch and turned his head to kiss Watson's palm. Sometimes there was a glory to be found in acquiescence

\---

The morning brought fog. There was a sense of tension in the air but also a sense of industry. The students and the designated chaperones left for their lectures,followed at a discreet distance by Holmes and Watson on borrowed bicycles. They watched as theRadegund students filtered into the student populace approaching the lecture theatres. "What now Holmes?" 

"A touch of research. You have your task?"

"Indeed, and the instructions with which to achieve it. What time shall we meet again?"

" At the very stroke of three o'clock. Be prepared for anything and everything, and all will be well. “

00000

Watson applied himself to the task, falling through the past pages of the evening news, taking note of the dealings of the magistrates courts. And his precise location remained unclear. He lunched alone at Fitzbillies, conscious of the time it took and keeping an eye open for Holmes's return.

Even so Holmes succeeded in surprising him by materialising several moments early, a bright white smile on his face.

"The wind is turning in our favour, Watson. What have you discovered?"

"Not as much as you, I would suggest, but enough. The Evening Chronicle is very thorough in reporting the fates of petty miscreants. What about you?" Holmes patted his breast pocket. I,too, have acquired a list. I would wager that some names will appear on both…" 

St.Botolph's clock chimed the hour. A determined glint sparked in Holmes's eyes. "Ready for a chase?"

"Entirely." Students spilled out of the lecture halls in a tangle, filling the streets as they streamed back into the town."For whom are we looking?" whispered Watson.

"The Radegund students and their chaperone, primarily. It is vital that we keep them in sight."

"To see who follows?"

"Yes. You have your whistle?"

"Only because you forbade me to carry my gun…"

"In case it falls into the wrong hands. I doubt it would be of much use here anyway…"

"I would feel better for its weight in my pocket."

"We are but observers here, dear Doctor. The malignant elements who have been terrorising members of Radegund College need to face the wrath of their victims."

“But what if…?"

"What if nothing. We will step in if genuine harm threatens, but then and only then."

"As you wish, Holmes." They watched the Radegund contingent glide past, joining the flow only once they were several seconds behind.

The group turned a corner, heading past the Fitzwilliam Museum towards the southern boundary of the town. The light was fading into grey once more. Holmes and Watson pedalled faster, determined to keep pace. 

The crowd of cyclists began to thin until only the Radegund group remained in front of them. The last of the Cambridge lampposts lay ahead, marking the boundary between the town itself and the surrounding villages. On a sunny day, this could have seemed idyllic. But today, under the milk grey sky and the deepening shadows, it only added to a growing sense of unease.

"Look out to the left….by the trees…"

Watson peered across into the murk. "How many do you think there are?"

“Four, at a guess. Let them pass without reaction and follow me."

Holmes came to a stop, a reluctant Watson beside him. They watched as the four dark-clad figures in most of the road, fanning across it behind the students. "Holmes, this is an ambush.They are in the utmost danger. We must help them." 

Holmes grabbed his shoulder. "No. Remember what I said last night. If we step in, they will only wait so we have gone to attack once more, perhaps with even greater force." He turned so that he had caught the entirety of Watson's attention. "Bullies only back down when their force is pushed back against them. I know the standing back goes against every ounce of your soul, but this is not our fight alone."

"Then why are we here?"

"To add our voices and use our innate privilege of our sex and status to highlight the abuse of others."

"If we must."

"Trust me." Watson complied against his better judgement and sense of chivalry.

"Good man. Follow me…" They sped off into the gloom, ears straining for the slightest sound.

The pack of cyclists swung left. The Radegund group were utterly focused on reaching the safety of College gates. They appeared to be paying no attention to the invaders to the point that their silence might easily have been misinterpreted as fear. The men started whooping and shouting at them, turning this way and that, speeding up so they were almost within touching distance of the women then sliding back. They rode onto the brow of the railway bridge, just as King's Cross express thundered unscreened beneath them.

All hell suddenly appeared to break loose with the screech of brakes and the clang of 

metal. Voices could be heard, louder higher than before with a clarity born of confidence. Watson could bear it no longer. He found sufficient strength to speed ahead, ready to face whatever he found.

Over the brow of the hill each side of the road was haphazardly stacked with bicycles. The students themselves had a circle around the men were pelting them with rancid vegetables and water balloons filled with lurid shades of ink.

The bullies tried repeatedly to escape, only to be pushed back into the circle to face another onslaught. One spotted a space in the circle and made an attempt to run only to find himself on the wrong side of Mrs Hulse's umbrella.

She forced him to the ground and pressed the point into his shoulder. He tried to swerve away only to find his path blocked by several students. She leaned down into his face. "Not so funny now are you? It wouldn't take much for me to finish you off. She edged the umbrella point closer to the softness of his throat. "Even the strongest man has his weak spots…"

"You- you wouldn't…” He blustered, trying to force out a smile. “- was only joking…" She pushed down just a little more, a vicious grin on her face. “Consider this a warning. Do not start a fight if you are not prepared to face the consequences." He gasped, then fainted. The other men managed to wrench away and ran down the hill, straight into the other chaperones and two constables.

Mrs Holst straightened up and brushed the dirt from her dress. She left her victim to come back to himself under brusque care of Doctor Watson. She turned to address the students who were beginning to reclaim their machines. "Return to College, please, and be prepared to offer the police every assistance in their enquiries." There was a chorus of “Yes ma'am,” before the students cycled down towards the welcoming lights of the College. She was about to follow them when Holmes approached.

"You have quite the defensive style, Mrs HOltz. One might even deduce a certain familiarity with weapons."

She inclined her head. "There is little point in acting as a lady in the presence of violence."

"An intriguing answer, ma'am. Our paths have crossed before, perhaps a little more than two years ago?"

"Nearer three, Mr Holmes. An open safe, a score of scandalous documents being fed to the flames and the blood of a blackmailer seeping into the carpet." She looked directly into Holmes's eyes. “It did surprise me that individuals as adept as you and Dr Watson were never able to catch those murderous burglars…"

"Justice is not always best served by the courts, Mrs Holtz, but in this case, Dr Watson and I will not cease until these culprits face the consequences of their deeds."

"Good." She turned to go but Holmes held out his hand.

"Whatever your past actions, understand that your secret is locked inside me and it will not be permitted to escape." 

“Thank you. And likewise. I already carry the weight of one death on my conscience, however justified. That is enough for me. TheCollege has granted me a second chance which I will not squander."

"I am most gratified to hear that ma'am."

\---

The following days kept Holmes and Watson in Cambridge as they built the case against the arrested men. The University chose to take a discreet but devastating hand in their fates,recommending that they be sent down shortly after Holmes presented his further evidence at an extraordinary meeting of the Senate.

"Who are they?" Asked Dr McLelland 

"Middlemiss, Blondel, Howlett, and Horgan. All Trinity men, all fervently opposed to the advancement of women students, especially those whose intelligence far outstripped their own. . The college has rescinded their membership and will fully support whatever civil prosecutions arise."

"Your influence knows no bounds, Mr Holmes.” 

"I sense the hand of Mycroft in this.”

"Mycroft?" asked Dr McLelland. 

Holmes sighed. "Mycroft Holmes. My older brother. A man of significant if shadowy influences. I may have called in a few favours in order for him to put pressure upon the senior members of the University. It would not do if the reputation of such a historic University was tarnished by ugly rumours of violence and intimidation amongst its own students. We were raised for the most part by a mother who might have flourished in an establishment such as Radegund. Coming to the assistance of the college is a joint act of defiance committed in her memory."

"For which we are very grateful."

"Our reward is to see justice truly served."

Watson came down the stairs, a bag in each hand. He put them down the Holmes's feet, then held out his hand Dr McLelland took it gratefully.

“Good to meet you Doctor, thank you for your welcome. Please do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of any assistance just students considering medicine."

She smiled "A wise doctor never turns down genuine offers of advancement especially for others."

Holmes offered his hand into her. "Consider yourself welcome at Baker Street whenever you are again in London."

"I will. Goodbye, gentleman."

They strode out of the crisp autumn and into the hansom cab that awaited them. Watson settled back in the seat as they drove off, but Holmes kept his eyes on the college gates. Mrs Holtz stood by the cycle shed. He acknowledged her with a tip of his hat. She mirrored the gesture with a smile that held a thousand secrets.

  
  



End file.
